Tell Me You Love Me
by Bunners
Summary: When Ginny and Harry realize their marriage is falling apart there is nothing they can do. The only solution seems to have children. But when that doesn't work, what do you do?
1. Chapter 1

Ginny Potter opened her brown eyes to a ceiling that was at first unfamiliar to her. A small amount of excitement opened her eyes wider Then with a faint realization she found it was the same ceiling she opened her eyes to every morning. She was still Ginny Potter, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, and she was still the wife of the nationally famous Harry Potter. A small sense of abandonment reached her as she rolled over and found the left side of the bed empty and cold; Harry's smell lingered on the imprinted pillows. Rolling out of bed took a motivation. Ginny tried to think of something she could look forward to today but nothing seem to come to mind. The corner of her eye showed her the cloudy sky and the snow seemed to that float down on Godric's Hollow.

What day was it? Ginny felt thrown off by sleeping in so late. The moving calendar above the bed showed her it was Friday. Ginny released a great sigh.

"T.G.I.F," Ginny said aloud sounding relieved. Tomorrow she wouldn't have to appear at work until the night shift. That left the day free for her and Harry to attend their appointment. The realization that the first day of the rest of her life rested on the shoulders of their personal friend and healer Hermione Weasley made Ginny feel uplifted and uneasy.

The large bedroom Harry and her slept in was to big to be any type of cozy and at this moment Ginny was feeling especially small. The bedroom felt cold as Ginny walked toward the bathroom. But it was now always that way, When Harry and Ginny were first married the bedroom had been steaming hot but now, after four and a half years of marriage only the icy cold of the early February wind was all that lingered near the bed.

It took a reasonable amount of force to look in the mirror, Ginny had always been confident but lately that confidence had been slipping away from her. The woman she saw in the mirror didn't look twenty-five at all. Ginny's fire-orange hair lay flat and lifeless as it went down her back. Her skin was pale and pinkish; her eyes were light brown but appeared cold and empty, bags forming on the lids. Ginny's lips were bright pink showing that they were chapped. A sense of hopelessness ran through her as her sunken eyes traveled over the depressed looking face. Through the open window above the shower, the icy wind blew in bringing some singsong words back to her.

_I wake up in the morning._

_Put on my face._

_The one that's gunna get me,_

_Through another day._

_Doesn't really matter,_

_How I feel inside,_

_This life is like a game sometimes. -Naked by Avril Lavigne._

Ginny put her head down on the sink. Her life was a mess. She was getting fat, she felt ugly, she hadn't had a real good time in ages, she was tired all the time, Her house was a mess, her job was slowly killing her piece by piece, and her husband was slowly loosing interest in her and was probably taking his needs to another woman's bed. Something had to give. She needed something to take her attention away from her stressful job and her crumbling marriage, something that would always provide warmth and happiness. Something had to give. Ginny softly rubbed her stomach and looked down at it with soft eyes. _It just had to._

The song had a catchy tune; it was probably coming from on of her lively muggle neighbors who lived only a couple houses down. Ginny proceeded down the stairs of the drafty house. Ginny had done her best to make the house feel homely but all her efforts were futile for nothing could make the house feel like The Burrow. Ginny reached the cold bottom step, which startled the bare skin on her foot. She pasted the ugly looking kitchen table that Aunt Muriel had given them as a wedding present. It had orange and brown paint covered in white cheesy-looking flowers.

On the kitchen counter laid the mail. Ginny skipped through it. _Bill, bill, bill, late Christmas card, bill, Ministry Notice_—Then Ginny pulled out something hard and heavy. It appeared to be some sort of thin plastic box, after a moment or so Ginny recognized it as what muggles called a 'DVD'. It was some sort of recording device used to record popular cinemas and sale to people for their own personal use. She wondered why in the world someone would send her one of these but when she saw the green cover of the DVD, Ginny immediately knew who it was. This had been the muggle musical Hermione had been feverishly and franticly trying to get Ginny to watch. She kept constantly insisting it was really good. Ginny wasn't so knee, she wasn't quite sure what a muggle musical would do to easy her everyday woes.

Ginny glanced at the cover, which was of a dark green. _Into The Woods_ it read. _Starring Bernadette Peters and Joanna Gleason premiered on Broadway 1987_—hmm, vaguely interesting. But however, (Ginny tossed the DVD onto the table and hurried upstairs to get ready for work.) It wasn't interesting enough to tempt her.

The snow outside covered about two inches of the street. When she was dressed warm and ready to go Ginny left her large home in Godric's Hollow and prepared for another stressful day at work. The Village seemed alive with play today; wizard and muggle children alike were playing around the Village. The lake, slightly farther than the village itself had frozen over rock solid. Children and couples alike skated freely on it. A muggle couple that seemed doomed to stand out were skating on the ice, a few people took to staring. The two teenagers appeared to be on a morning date but if there were an odder couple in the world, that was them. The teenage boy was tall and gangly though very handsome he had very dark seek hair and pale skin. The girl on the other hand seemed rather nerdy and clumsy. She had big dark red bushy hair and spectacles that reminded Ginny of Professor Trelawney, with braces on her teeth. She looked like a hot mess in Ginny's opinion. And yet they were together. The boy appeared to be teaching the girl how to skate. They seemed to be doing fine, talking little because of embarrassment and the girl only slipped once or twice.

But half way around the lake the girl took a plunge and just before she hit the ground the boy caught her. Their eyes met, and then they both looked away quickly, cheeks burning and eyes wondering. How she remembered how it used to be with her and Harry.

Ginny Apperated in front of the shabby old red telephone booth used for Ministry of Magic hours after her husband, who was no doubt already waist deep in files and complaints about the new safety enchantments that had been placed on the entire doors at the Ministry of Magic.

Ginny glanced around; no one seemed to be awake. Though it was nearly ten in the morning the streets of downtown London were indeed dull, extremely dull than the usual hustle and bustle. Paying it not much thought, and faintly thinking it had something to do with the very large block party the night before, Ginny hurried into the shabby booth. It had graffiti scratched into the shielding glass and Ginny noted the unbearable smell of weed that seemed to be coming from the corner. The three extra hours of sleep seemed to have done Ginny extremely well. She hadn't told anyone she was planning on sleeping in, except Harry who had left for work around four in the morning. Since the couple where two key components in the welfare of the ministry neither were able to sleep in for too long.

This month had been especially hectic, (when was there ever a calm month in the Potter house?) with Andromeda Tonks, coming down with an odd illness, then quickly after being hospitalized, Teddy, who was now living with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley Sr. had been subject to moods of depression, and only at the age of ten! Bill and Fleur's daughter Victoire, who was only eight, had broken her ankle playing on a broomstick with George. A two-month pregnant Hermione who had been working herself to death at St. Mungo's had to be taken in to her work for false labor. Her office as well at her House Elf Headquarters in Surrey had been shut down temporarily, while a screaming Hermione pitched a fit in the St. Mungo's Hospital bed. Ginny herself was getting a raise, while Harry was insisting to The Minister of Magic that they take new advanced safety precautions at the ministry. Also Harry had a new assistant. Ginny smirked at the thought of how they were getting along at the moment. Though there had been a lot in this hectic month Ginny knew it was just a little more than they did every month.

Doing the usual, Ginny held the phone over her head and dialed _Magic_. A sort of confused and delirious female voice filled the small booth.

"Welcome to the Ministry. Name and business."

Half amused half annoyed Ginny corrected her. "Its welcome to the Ministry of Magic, state your name and business."

The female voice seemed to recognize Ginny's and she hissed. "Your late, girl."

"I'm well aware of that. I would be careful if I were you, the minister listens to these channels." Ginny said simply. The female voice let out a cross between a gasp and a hiccup. She reluctantly continued on, this time making no mistakes but her voice sounded oddly unpleasant and unwelcoming. The voice began to list off things that needed to be done by Ginny and small reminders but Ginny was only half listening. The last glints of the sunlight shined through as the booth descended before they were gone completely. Ginny laid her head against the graphitized glass and thought unconsciously about what she might cook for dinner. The meat she had bought last week was still in the refrigerator and if she didn't cook it soon it would go bad. But Harry had vaguely mentioned he would be getting something after work. Ginny thought of the tall silhouette in the darkness that had distractedly kissed her goodbye early this morning, he had aimed for her cheek but missed and kissed her around her nose. If he had planned on eating alone then she could always cook the meat tomorrow.

The last word of her thought echoed off the walls of her head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was it. Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow was the day, that her and Harry would know, as a couple. Ginny closed her eyes and let the word roll off her lips in a whisper.

"_Tomorrow_,"

"What was that?" asked the female voice, who sound like an old maid.

"Nothing," fluttered Ginny as her nametag was printed out. It read _Ginerva Potter, Introductory Receptionist_.

As the booth descended Ginny could see the Ministry's main floor, where she worked. And as she came into view of others on the Ministry's floor a pair of deep dark brown eyes bore into her, appearing to be angry. They came from a tall black man who seemed to be waiting for her. He was in a long traveling cloak like everyone else but instead of black his was navy and read the letters under his name, _Head of Department of International Magical Cooperation (D.I.M.C)._ Ginny took her time with getting out of the booth, which seemed to frustrate him even more.

"Your late," he said when they were face to face.

"I know," said Ginny caring less as she glanced around.

"You know?" repeated Dean Thomas looking flabbergasted as they walked toward and around the counter. "Where the hell were you?"

"Harry gave me permission to sleep in.," she said rather simply.

"Harry…?" Dean repeated looking angry. But he said nothing more on the subject of her lateness. "Speaking of your dotting husband, he sent me down here earlier to sort things out, as if I haven't anything else to do. Apparently, at around six—seven, in the morning here, this floor was a mad house. With no one managing Intro Track and everyone coming in to scream at your secretary Zeller."

"Zeller?" Ginny repeated confused. "Rose Zeller? That girl is my secondary secretary. What's she doing here, she should be down in the Courtrooms, assisting Fallon with the proceedings—."

"It got so busy up here we had to send for her." Said Dean simply.

"Where's Pritchard?"

"Graham Pritchard?" Dean shrugged. "Who knows, that boy wondered off after it got busy."

Ginny had been schooling two students on the ways of the Ministry. They were both working there on an Internship. They were both incredibly intelligent but Zeller seemed more Hermione-ish, and who often took more of her time to do everything while Pritchard often liked to lack off. Both of the youths were under Ginny's care, and they both had been assigned jobs. Pritchard was to mind the receptionist desk, while Zeller who was harder working, and more deserving, was sent to help Shane Fallon with court proceedings. Ginny thought it was interesting that Zeller seemed to get stuck doing Pritchard's job while, Pritchard was nowhere to be seen.

"Who's on the Intro Track now?" Ginny asked but she was quite sure she already knew.

"Pansy, Pansy Parkinson," Dean groaned while covering his face. "She's got nothing on you, Gin, I'll admit that much. We've been getting complaints on her all morning. As if we haven't enough complaints already."

As he said that they came to a door behind the receptionist desk. Sitting in the chair with dark hair and pale skin was a young girl. She appeared no older than twenty-two. She had her wand out and she was sorting threw files rather quickly. She looked so very tired but every time someone walked up to the desk she managed what looked like a very sincere smile.

Ginny clasped her shoulder as the person walked away, bent down and whispered in her ear. "Go home."

Rose Zeller turned her light eyes toward Ginny, an expression of fear carved into her tired face, worried if she were in trouble.

"You've done well," said Ginny reassuringly. "After a million people screaming in your face, I'm surprised you can still manage a smile."

Rose's features seemed to soften, and she began to gather her things. "Are you certain, Mrs. Potter?"

"Quite," smiled Ginny. "Spend what's left of your day resting, because tomorrow you shall be back in the courtrooms."

Rose Zeller smiled as she left and then was gone.

"That was wise," said Dean sarcastically. "Sending your best secretary home, for the rest of the day off, brilliant."

"Pritchard shall take her place," said Ginny as she withdrew her wand. "_Lumos" _she whispered and then she spoke into the ball of light at the tip of her wand. "Graham Pritchard, if you don't make yourself present at this moment you can forget about this internship."

Seconds later there was a faint _pop_ and Graham Pritchard came around the desk. He as well was young, looking around the age of twenty-three. He was only two years younger than Ginny herself. He had blonde windblown hair and the pink in his face seemed to only appear on the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his long nose. He gave off a very haughty disposition and looked at Ginny rather like he was being interrupted.

"Where have you been," hissed Ginny.

"In the courtrooms, helping Fallon," he answered normally.

"You were told to stay at your post," said Ginny. Pritchard didn't seem to have an answer for this. Ginny pointed at the seat behind the desk where Rose, had moments before occupied.

"Where is Zeller?" asked Pritchard looking outraged.

"I sent her home, she looked tired after having to do your work and hers."

Pritchard didn't speak but took the seat at the desk. Ginny turned back to Dean. "Anything else I should know?"

Dean shook his head. "No just get Parkinson out of there."

Dean went to unlock the door behind the desk, but the moment he touched it he let out a violent scream, withdrew his hand and stared at the doorknob murderously. Ginny was startled at his yell but was calmed after a moment when Dean looked over his shoulder at her with death eyes.

"Damn your husband," Dean hissed as he withdrew his wand as well and inserted it within the keyhole. The door unlocked and swung open seconds later. "If he weren't so paranoid maybe we wouldn't have to use our wands every time we want to open a damn door that's been—,"

But the rest of his words were drowned in the noise, which came from the circular room they had just entered. Four fireplaces were set around the room and screaming faces surged in and out of each. The window, on the ceiling was a letter shoot for howlers that fell from the roof like red rain, each one exploding after a couple seconds with raging voices. The Shelves and shelves of muggle telephones rang off the hook and in the center of the room, seated at a desk was a very overwhelmed looking woman with a blue headset. She said every couple seconds '_welcome to the Ministry of Magic, state your name and business_', and looked close to tears as she tried to answer all the ringing telephones.

"Good lord," whispered Ginny looking around at her office room as she withdrew he wand again. And with a loud _whoosh_ all the fireplaces went out, the muggle telephones were on the hook and silent, and the roof window was closed very tightly so the howlers remained outside.

Pansy had thrown the blue headset on the ground and put her head down on the desk.

"Don't you know, that you never give permission for open service, otherwise it would be like that all the time," Ginny told the overwhelmed Pansy Parkinson. "If it were a real emergency, they would have enough sense to know to call Magical Law Enforcement offices or St. Mungo's Emergency center, not here."

Pansy stood and without a word she stocked off out of the room.

"Well," said Dean. "Here you are, do what you do best."

Ginny smiled tiredly. "I will, like always."

Dean was about to leave when he turned back. "Oh yeah, I hear tomorrow is the big day."

Ginny nodded, only half smiling now. "Yeah, it is."

"How are you two doing on that?" Dean asked with a slight tilt of his head.

"I'm spectacular, Harry is in between about it, but I figure there's no way we could come back negative," said Ginny rather brightly.

Dean moved toward the door and just before he closed it said rather ominously. "I wouldn't count your dragon eggs before they hatch."

And the door closed, leaving Ginny to her work.

For the first time in his entire career at the Ministry of Magic Harry felt overwhelmed at being the Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Hundreds of papers and talking complaints scattered the floor of his office.

_Dear Mr. Potter_ they all began like, and then went off into a flurry about their complaint or suggestion or compliment or whatever nonsense that wore on their mind so that they felt so knee as to write a letter. Harry massaged his temples as if he had a headache. He was annoyed and frustrated beyond belief. After months of hassle on his part trying to get new safety and security measures installed he half expected his colleagues to be somewhat grateful.

Harry thought back on when he broke into the Ministry twice. Once into the Department of Mysteries and the second when he, Ron and Hermione impersonated Ministry officials. How easy it had been back then. No one was there to check on Polyjuice Potion tricks or whether their mission to the Ministry had a good reason. Back then the security was loose enough for teenagers to sneak past. That was not the Department Harry was content on running regardless of the reason. There were still people out there that were willing to do the Ministry harm if and when they got the chance. So to ensure such a thing would never happen Harry tightened up the security. Apparently no one seemed too thrilled.

Harry sat back in his chair and groaned as a howler shot itself through the crack in the window and landed on the floor amongst the talking complaints. Harry turned away from it, toward his desk. Howlers were on the regular here in his department. There was always some crazy man or some shrewd woman fussing over lack of so-on-and-so-forth. Harry leaned forward yearning for one of his wife's arousing shoulder massages she used to give him years ago and wondered distantly if she had arrived at work before he pushed the intercom button. Harry put his head down on his messy desk.

"Jeanette?" Harry groaned through his arm. Behind him something exploded and started yelling but Harry paid little attention.

"Yes?" asked his slightly startled sounding secretary as the Howler roared in the background.

"The lunch hour is at what time today?"

"Haven't I already told you four or five times today?"

"I need to hear it again for clarity."

His secretary sighed and in a dreary voice she answered. "2'o'clock sir." And with that the channel went dead.

Harry sighed as the howler's voice died out. He needed to focus on something else. This was absolutely ridiculous. Harry picked up a handful of complaint and scanned them over.

_Dear Mr. Potter_ —

(A bunch of unnecessary nonsense about a poor man's cow and her utters. Toward the middle came the actual complaint.)

—_As I went to go visit the Ministry a month or so ago, I used the Floo Powder Network that's supposed to connected to my Fireplace. But when I shouted the Ministry of Magic I got a mouth full of soot instead. What's going on?_ —

_Mr. Potter_

_About a year ago_— (Harry stared at that line for a long annoying moment. A year ago? He wasn't even Head of M.L.E a year ago!)

—_I found myself very frustrated with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I called for help when a few stray muggle teenagers decided to play tipsy on my front lawn and when I called none of you came to help_—

_Regards_

_Maria Bruja _

(Harry rolled his eyes)

—_Potter,_

_Last week my aunt broke her leg. How come you guys weren't there? _

_Jenna Ming_

_Putter _

_When I was young I wanted to be just like you! So I was thinking, maybe if you have a non-work-day at the Ministry_—

(Where the hell did this person live? In a bin? There has never been a "non-working" day at the Ministry.)

—_I was thinking maybe I could come in, and you could show me one of your tricks. Like say how to make a stag patronus_—

(Harry's patronus was naturally a stag, there's no way, unless they were oddly similar that they could produce a stag one and the same)

—_Or maybe you could introduce me to your pretty friend Hermione Granger. She has an awful nice_—

What in the hell was all this junk! People sometimes seemed to have nothing better to do than make complaints or better yet, see how his day was doing, with annoying an insensitive fan mail. Why in the world was he doing this? There were indeed more important papers to read and sign than complaints. Why was he dealing with this, where was his assistant? Harry looked around swiftly but the ash-blonde man was nowhere to be seen. Harry grunted. He was probably off doing something only Harry was allowed to do, trying to take his job no doubt. Before moving on to more important matters Harry glanced back at the complaint. Unconsciously he picked up his quill and crossed out _Granger_ and wrote _Weasley_ over head. All the while fighting the urge to send the letter back with a Howler screaming she was married. Harry pushed the papers aside and focused on something more important.

A few important looking papers caught his eyes that were titled

_Memorandum of Upcoming Changes in the Ministry of Magic_

The letter went through a series of things that would be changing that month which included Harry's Locks and a couple other important things. Harry's eyes skipped down to the end.

_Each Ministry Head must sign that he/she have indeed read this memo and vow to distribute it to their department. _Harry got his quill out and ready.

_Head Assistants as well may sign in the Head of Department's place if for some reason the Head is unavailable._

_The Minister_

Harry looked down to a series of lines for a series of signatures, and then found the spot for Head of Magical Law Enforcement but to his dismay there was a signature in his place. On the line labeled for Magical Law Enforcement was signature of his assistant. _Draco Malfoy_ it read. Harry narrowed his eyes at the signature and then looked around at the rest of the papers. All of them were signed _Draco Malfoy_. He tossed them aside uselessly. He felt annoyed that his new, four month old assistant was trying to do his job but at the same time relieved. It was one less thing he had to worry about, one less meeting he had to attend.

Draco Malfory had been his head assistant for nearly four and a half months now. At first, it came as an awful shock. He hadn't heard from Draco in the last nine years, not since that faithful night at Hogwarts. After that Harry became aware from the Quibbler that he, along with his family, and the few surviving Death Eaters had been tried under the Ministry courts (after it had reformed.) Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were sentenced to live out the rest of their lives in Azkaban for plotting to over throw the Ministry. The two remaining Death Eaters (Macnair and Travers) were both sentenced to death. Draco, though quite after he fled the U.K, and then was brought back into custody, miraculously seemed to get off with a mistrial. He was convicted, but the appeal stated that Draco only did as told on threat of death to him or his parents.

Harry remembered the last time he had seen him. He was coming out of the courtrooms. Harry, half expected him to be escorted by a haughty-looking aunt or uncle that was to take him in, but Draco was escorted by no one only a large Auror that was to watch him like a hawk and place him under house arrest for three years of his adult life. He had a very blank and unreadable expression about his face. But his stormy eyes told all. His parents were being haled off by two large wizards in the opposite direction and yet, Draco didn't look their way. His eyes, which were very dark and dank, remained straight forward. And as he watched him leave the Ministry a somewhat free man, Harry got a feeling that Draco had done more growing up in that courtroom than all the seventeen years of his life.

From last he had heard over the years Draco had moved out of the U.K and was traveling in different places while studying abroad. He never stayed in one place longer than a week and were exploring things that his pureblood reputation only let graze the surface. Harry had heard many things at the Ministry of what type of 'exploring' the last Malfoy was doing. The rumor's had ranged from him slaying lions in the jungle, to getting a muggle girl pregnant. But Harry knew that Malfoy wouldn't let his newfound curiosity ruin his status, but then again, maybe he would. Draco was always known to be a little reckless.

Harry sat back and rubbed his face. He was oh so tired. He had been at work since four-thirty this morning. But it was better than being at home. At home he had no privacy, at home he was constantly questioned, at home he wasn't trusted, not with Ginny at least. Ginny had changed; she wasn't the same strong woman he had married. Over the last year things had been overtly less than perfect between them. She always complaining about her weight and the way she looked, Harry hadn't noticed a change and he voiced that to her, she seemed deeply offended by the remark and complained about it even more. She was also was a clean freak. She had become obsessed with their house being spotless. It drove Harry up the wall when she insisted on having everything just so for one person's company, which was likely one of her brothers. And most of all she never smiled anymore. Harry couldn't remember the last time he saw Ginny's loving, reassuring smile, and he missed it. She always seemed so tired. He knew that was partly because of the Ministry job she had but she didn't put forth much effort anymore, it was almost like she didn't want to be married. It was because of these tendencies that Harry spent more time at work then at home. Harry was well aware that all married couples fought. When he was around eleven or twelve he used to have a fairy tale image in his mind of how his parents were as a couple, but that image was sadly dashed when he saw how his mother used to hate him in the Pensieve.

Harry and Ginny had reached an unspoken agreement that there was only one thing that could possibly save their marriage, and they would know of that tomorrow.

Harry remembered when they were first married and how creative she was. How she would take him on moonlit walks around Godric's Hollow, or have blue rose petals scattering the floor leaving a trail that lead up to the bedroom. Those kinds of things never happened now. Harry reminisced on the days where he could tell a joke and they would both roll over laughing for hours. Nowadays she would blow up and get angry, say it was insensitive. She used to laugh; now she gets mad, Harry just wanted his friend back in this marriage.

The worst of all though was that she was untrusting. One night Harry was caught in a little white lie, which blew up and turned into probably one of the worst points in his marriage. Harry had 'told' Ginny he was working late, but in truth he was going out for drinks with some of his buddies. Ron, Dean, Neville, and his secretary's husband Everett. He didn't tell Ginny because she seemed to think a good time wasn't a real good time without her, and it was hard to explain to her otherwise. Anyway when Ginny had called Hermione later that night she had told her that Harry wasn't scheduled to work at the Ministry that day and it spiraled down from there. That had been the worst row Harry had ever had with Ginny.

_Harry entered the front door, and then with much effort he came inside and closed the door as quietly as possible. The only sound was the slight snap of the door closing. But as soon as that sound was heard a light clicked on in the living room. And there, in a large squashy armchair was Ginny, looking dreadful, with a box of tissue lying in her lap. _

_Harry tried to think fast at first but nothing quick-witted or convincing seemed to come to mind at that moment._

"_Where were you," she said in a deadly whisper. Harry felt dirty, like he had been caught, but gave the logical answer._

"_At work," he said simply._

"_Lies," she whispered back. It was as if she could smell the Firewhiskey on him from halfway across the room. Her eyes were red and puffy, she must have been crying for hours._

_Virtually nothing could have prepared him for this. But Harry stood his round._

"_It's not. I was at work, I just told you."_

_The look on Ginny's face was murderous, though she remained in her seat her voice was in a quivering yell._

"_Stop LYING TO ME! I talked to Hermione! She told me you weren't there!"_

_There was really no use in getting around it now, but Harry still fought. His temper was slowly starting to surface. All he had wanted to do was take the night off. Have some time to just relax, without job stuff, without…Ginny. _

_Suddenly Ginny gave out a loud gasp and was on her feet. She was pointing a shaky hand toward Harry's collar. Harry looked down quickly and saw on his shirt collar was a bright red smudge. During drinking Everett thought it would be funny if he pour some of the Firewhiskey on him. From Ginny's distance it probably looked like a lipstick imprint. Oh God Harry thought. _

"_Who is she?" Ginny said forcefully, her eyes wide now._

"_There's no one," Harry said firmly, angry at the way the situation turned out._

"_Tell me, is she the one you've been shagging while you're telling me you're at work?" she asked the rhetorical question in a deranged sort of way._

"_I'm not shagging anyone but you," Harry said trying to remain calm. Ginny let out a dazed and crazed sort of laugh and Harry knew why. The truth of the answer was that Harry and Ginny hadn't Made Love for nearly eight months. Harry raised his palms as a sign of surrender as he spoke. "I went out with Ron, Neville, and Everett for drinks but that's all, that's it. I'm sorry."_

_The apology wasn't really genuine, Harry wasn't sorry he went out and had a good time, but it didn't matter anyways, Ginny didn't seem to be listening. She seemed to be talking to herself, in a way Xenophilius Lovegood might have done. She looked absolutely crazy. Her eyes were puffy and red; her skin was pink and blotchy. Her orange hair was plastered to her forehead, a mixture of tears and sweat acting as the glue. Her pajamas were one of her old holey had-me-downs that were fading gray from Percy or George. Ginny's mouth was moving but no words were coming out, her eyes were growing wider and wider and her lips moved faster. _

"_Ginny," he said cautiously, she was going crazy. A thought struck Harry, or she could be putting a spell on him, but if she were he would probably feel the affects right about now, since he felt nothing he preceded toward his wife with caution. He repeated "Ginny?"_

_He was within a couple inches of her when he spoke again. "Ginny?"_

_SMACK! Out of nowhere Ginny had snapped to attention and slapped him across the face, hard. The sting in his cheek was agony, and that's when his temper came._

"_What the HELL is wrong with you!" yelled Harry._

"_Wrong with me?" Ginny said wildly. "What's wrong with you! How-could-you-do-this-to-me!"_

_She threw a punch with every word, but her feeble hits did nothing to move him, he resisted the urge to pick her up with one hand and throw her on the couch. She then went into a daze and began talking crazy._

"_Ginny, shut up. You can't talk like this," Harry hissed._

_Ginny rambled on about how she would tell the world everything he was._

"_Ginny, SHUT UP! YOU CAN'T TALK LIKE THIS!"_

_Ginny had burst into tears now. He wanted to just leave and get away from her. But instead he seized her firmly by her shoulders and shook her slightly. His temper at boiling point. Harry looked her dead in her brown eyes and spoke._

"_I am not shagging anyone else, I'm not," he said firmly. Ginny seemed to crumble in his grip and she tried to wiggle free, she was crying hysterically now._

"_But if you are_—_," Ginny cried._

"_I'm not."_

"_If you are! I_—_."_

"_I'm NOT."_

"_But what if you were! All these women here that fancy you_—_."_

"_Ginny, I'm not."_

"_But what if_—_!"_

"_OH WHAT IF! WILL ONLY A GIANT'S FOOT STOP YOUR ARGUING!" Harry roared louder than ever. He shook her hard in his hands, and when he let her go she literally melted to the floor and fell to pieces, crying worst then ever. Harry backed away slowly and disappeared upstairs._

The wounds of that fight had never truly healed fully. Harry knew he should have yelled like that. There were a lot of things he regretted and this was definitely one of them. Harry looked toward the ceiling. Now that he actually thought of it, he should have shagged someone; he had gotten all the consequences of it. The intercom button went off Jeanette's nervous voice came through.

"Ah, sir?"

"What?"

"May I request a word, in person?"

"No,"

"Its important sir,"

"If it's so important it will resolve itself. I have faith in you."

There was a loud crash from the background and Harry sighed deeply. Not a moment's peace.

Author's note: Don't be put off by the way I approach this, just go with it and trust me. It will pick up.

Disclaimer: I don't own them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dammit," muttered Ginny as she tripped over a step as she came in. Ginny usually came home before her husband, ate dinner without him; and was in the bed before he even walked through the front door. Tonight was no different. As the blood red sunset moved behind the snowy mountains in the distance, Ginny seated herself at the ugly kitchen table with her dinner plate and a comforting book, like she did every night. Tonight seemed especially boring.

She looked around at the television hoping it might provide some source of entertainment but then decided against it. When her and Harry had moved into this house, he had insisted on having a few muggle items, saying they would provide a few more luxuries for them. The items they had included, a television set, Walkman player, a telephone, a toaster, and a few cars in the garage. Ginny understood the use of a television and Walkman player, along with the two cars, which were a break from disapperating, but what was the use of a toaster? Her mother had always toasted bread with her wand. She had told Harry this but her husband did what he wanted to, and listened to her only when it was convenient, not because he thought she was smart. The snow outside in the dark was falling thick and fast; flakes floated down and landed onto other flakes, ending their journey. Ginny ate her dinner alone and read her book. _How To Entice Him _the cover read. It was only about seven at night.

Usually women her age would be out partying or with their friends. Ginny didn't really have many friends. The few friends she did have, most of them were in the family. She mostly leaned on Hermione for emotional support, but her work schedule never allowed much dawdling time. Fleur had also been one of her close friends at this point in her life and Ginny liked the marriage advice she often gave her, but Fleur was often busy with her own family. Angelina and Penelope seemed to have their own tight knit group, whose members only included the two of them. And Jolene, seemed to not say much to anyone. Ginny was indeed a lone wolf. But when things got really tough she could always rely on Luna.

Luna hadn't changed much since Hogwarts, but had grown a new form of personality while running _The Quibbler_. She seemed to carry the disposition of 'I-Am-Woman-Hear-Me-Roar'. And Ginny liked it. She was very pro-life, pro-liberty, pro-happiness, pro-power, pro-everything just about. Luna wasn't married, she often said marriage was an old person's game and she was young and still wanted to be free. Ginny seemed to think after a while, that this frame of thinking was the one she should have taken when Harry proposed to her. For it wasn't all daisies and sunshine between them.

Ginny looked around again at her spotless house, it was times like this that she took to getting a few things done. She always managed to get her house clean. She never took her work home with her. Her job never really required that sort of thing. Harry's job on the other hand did. He often brought his work home with him. They never saw each other at home, and never crossed paths at the Ministry so anytime they saw each other was on the weekends and that wasn't even a proper meeting. Harry spent long hard hours at the Ministry, or at least that's what he told her. She honestly wished she had someone to talk to, right about now.

There was a knock on the door. This often happened whenever she thought that. Ginny scrambled to the door and opened it. Standing in the doorway, looking a bit frosty was Luna Lovegood with a snow hat on her head and an oddly pattern scarf around her neck. Her pale cheeks were highlighted with pink because of the cold.

"Whooh," said Luna as she scurried into the house, rubbing her hand together. "Its so cold here."

"Nice of you to call," said Ginny as she closed the door behind her friend.

"I'm sorry, I got off early, I thought you'd might like some company," Luna hummed.

Ginny was grateful because that was exactly what she wanted. Luna tossed her hat and scarf on the dinning room table as she went into the kitchen and rummaged through what was there.

"How was work today?" Ginny asked casually.

Luna shrugged. "Hectic, as usual. You?

"Same here. How's the work on your Bachelorette Pad going?"

Luna shrugged again but with a sneer on her face. "They keep getting my floor plan wrong. At this rate I'll be living with Dad for the rest of my life."

Ginny nodded as a sign that she understood. There was a moment of silence then Luna called from the kitchen.

"Are you nervous?"

Ginny knew what she was referring to and immediately knew why she had decided to come over.

"Ah, no, not really," Ginny lied.

"How's Harry about it?"

"Ah, he's okay, I guess," Ginny lied again. Truth be told she had no idea how Harry was feeling about their appointment tomorrow. They had just given samples one day, and Hermione had called them back for an appointment to discuss the results. Luna had her plate and headed toward the table. She plopped down in the seat next to Ginny.

"Hmm, interesting, so tell me, when was the last time you and Harry—." Luna knocked on the table in place of the word she was about to use.

Ginny shrugged rather embarrassedly. "Ah, maybe a week or so?"

Luna stared at her and Ginny corrected herself. "Okay a month."

Luna didn't look very convinced. "Okay, okay, it's been about, five months?" Ginny said downplaying the real amount.

"Five months?" said Luna looking flabbergasted. "Wow, that's work. You know, Ginny, you do have to—you know, to have children."

"I'm well aware of that," snapped Ginny. The fact that her husband hadn't made an attempt to touch her in a little over eight months was becoming more and more evident. Ginny pushed her food away from her; she wasn't so hungry anymore. Luna picked up the book she was reading and read the cover with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sure you are," Luna said eyeing the book with an odd look. Ginny snatched it and tossed it on the couch. The conversation went dead from there and a few moments later Luna suddenly turned toward her friend with a happy look on her face.

"So aside from all the downs, tell me, if the results came back positive, what would you prefer? A girl? Or a boy?"

Ginny grinned at the thought, it would be nice to have a pretty little girl with black hair running around playing dress up or an adventurous red head boy hopping on fences.

"Come to think of it, I've never really given it much thought," said Ginny staring at the ceiling. "Why do you ask?"

Luna sat back in her chair and stretched her hands behind her head with a sort of smug grin on pale face. "Oh no reason, I just thought if you knew we could head over to that new Greenberry baby store that opened up by Gringotts, but since you don't know I—what are you doing?"

"Getting my cloak," said Ginny, who at the sound of the store Greenberry had gotten to her feet. "What time does it close?"

Luna was on her feet as well with an excited smile. "Ten, we've got plenty of time."

"Good," said Ginny as she cut off the lights in the house and headed toward the door as Luna wrapped her scarf around her neck and shoved her hat on her head.

"Oh and Luna, do put back that plate of food, Harry'll have a fit if there's nothing in there, even if its half eaten."

Harry had gotten off early. Well, it wasn't necessarily early, Harry always got off at seven o'clock, but the real question was if he was ready to go home or not, and usually he wasn't. So instead of heading toward the main floor, where the red telephone booth would be that would take him to the plain muggle street, Harry went down toward the courtrooms. On the last floor toward the end of the hall where the Ministry joined with St. Mungo's was a blue colored booth. A large crowd of Ministry officials and Healers alike waited around the booth impatiently as it slowly took its handful of people, to and fro their destinations. Harry reluctantly joined the group. Harry liked avoiding big groups of people when he could. Often than most times, people tended to single him out by staring, which they were doing now.

A girl toward the front of the group, with curly blonde hair whispered to her tall, healer-dressed, redheaded boyfriend, and they both turned to stare at him. The redhead turned away looking vaguely uninterested, he encouraged his girlfriend to do the same but her gaze remained locked. At first, Harry pretended not to notice, but as the staring became more and more drawn out, Harry began to get annoyed. Harry stared directly back at her with raised eyebrows; she turned away quickly, scarlet cheeked. Harry was often getting looks like that, from women especially, but Harry did his best to ignore it because he knew he could never get used to it. A few others had noticed and took note of his presence as well. Two tall, tan, and dark haired gentlemen glanced at him then one of them began talking quickly in the others ear in what sounded like French. A small child, who appeared no older than five, was holding his mother's hand nearby. He had dark brown hair and very prominent blue eyes that were locked on Harry. Harry smiled wearily at the child.

"Harry Potter," said the boy pointing his small finger straight at Harry's lightning bolt scar. Everyone waiting turned to look at him. A mortified young mother looked at her son in disbelief.

"Timmy! What did I tell you about pointing!" The brown-headed woman picked up her child and drew him into her arms. "Mr. Potter, I'm so sorry about this—."

"Its no problem," said Harry quite calmly. "It happens a lot."

"Well, I know you like to keep a low profile Mr. Potter, he didn't mean to start anything, or blow your cover—."

"Its quite alright, I don't mind, and please, call me Harry." Said Harry noticing how more and more people were staring, waiting for his reaction. Between her frantic voice of rambling and her calling him 'Mr. Potter' were drawing people.

"Its just, we teach, 'we' meaning me and my husband Henry, teach my son a lot about you, we've told him all your stories, from the ones at Hogwarts, you've been his hero since he could talk—and, and, I thought you did a great job on those new security measures at the Ministry, I don't work at the Ministry of course, my brother does, he said they were terrible—but I think there a wonderful idea. I was just at the Ministry to pick up little Timothy here, does your wife still work at the Introductory station, because if she does she has the most soft and tender voice I have ever heard, and she is oh so pretty with that long orange colored hair, not that having orange hair is bad, its different, unique. I've always liked those Weasleys, lots of red hair, big family, I meself have always wanted a big family—." And as a couple minutes passed the woman rambled on and on. The only thing that ended her long speech was the booth coming and Harry autographing the back of little Timmy's plastic toy.

After it became silent again the group's attention had turned toward him. Deciding quickly, before anyone else could say anything, Harry turned away and walked down the opposite hall toward St. Mungo's. The dark dreary halls slowly became lighter as the Level 10 courtrooms began to blend and become the fifth floor of St. Mungo's Visitor's Tearoom and Hospital Shop.

Harry would have left already had it not been for people's annoying stares and the fact that he was looking for that one comfort that he had relied on for nearly sixteen years. After about five minutes of walking, the walls of the hallway had become neon white and Harry came to a barely visible shield, a slightly dented sign hanging high above it. _St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries (Ministry of Magic Entrance, authorization required) _

Harry didn't need authorization to access St. Mungo's but he thought he'd do it anyways to get through quickly, but there was no need. His purpose for entering ceased when whom he sought emerged from one of the many pale orange doors on the fifth floor.

A very tall, slightly built, in his mid-twenties, and rather board-looking man emerged from an orange door just off the hall. He was in a lime green sort of jump suit; a bone and a wand embroidered across the front. _Magical Emergency Transport _the badge across his robes read. He was the equivalent of what muggles called _The Ambulance_. A silk emerald cloak covering his arms and the hood hiding his bright orange hair. He had his bags and things with him so Harry suspected he had just gotten off work.

Ron seemed to spot Harry from down the hall and slowly walked toward him. As Ron got closer Harry noticed a look of sorrow on his longtime friend's face. He strode through the shield as if it weren't there and Harry fell into step beside him. They didn't speak as they walked down the long hallway but their silence had said everything. Harry knew Ron had just come from visiting Hermione, who was in the Hospital for almost going into false labor, for the amount of stress that had placed on her curly little head.

Though Ron was indeed visiting Hermione, Harry knew everything wasn't sunshine and daisies between them, as it wasn't with him and Ginny. Hermione was pregnant and she was a very hardworking woman, everyone knew that. But Hermione had lately been having second thoughts about the child. She wanted to have it, of course, but she felt as if it were getting in the way of her career.

There was a procedure that only a few high ranking, well-paid healers and the wealthiest of families knew about. And Hermione was indeed, highly ranked and paid well. A witch could have the choice of postponing her pregnancy. She could take a potion that would slow down the rate of the pregnancy, and she could choose how slow she wanted it to go. Some, out of the few witches that could afford this option, only chose to add a few extra months to the time they were with child. Others that had major careers and businesses to run sometimes put off pregnancies for almost three years.

Hermione had talked to Ron about getting this done, he refused, and Harry could tell he wanted to be with his daughter as soon as possible. Hermione went behind his back and got it anyway. She slowed down the pregnancy to almost a year and half. Ron had been furious when he had found out, and the rest of their arguments had happened behind closed doors.

When they reached the elevator leading up to Diagon Alley, the crowd that had been there was gone, and Harry was quite relieved. As Harry and Ron rode up the elevator Harry broke the silence.

"Hermione doing well, I presume?"

Ron seemed a bit irritated at the mention of her name. "Hermione's. Hermione, I guess. Screaming, fits of crying because of stress, almost giving birth on the spot when she found what her assistant did with her patients. Hermione's, Hermione." There was a pause and Ron quickly corrected himself. "Of course, she'll be fine, up and ready for your appointment tomorrow."

The last sentence made Harry thinks of his own life and an immediate sense of depression came over him.

"How are you and Ginny by the way?" Ron's voice was calm but Harry could sense the suspicious in the way he said it.

"Ah, fine, good, spectacular even. She's probably at home now, waiting for me." Harry lied, and he could tell Ron didn't believe him.

But the conversation of wives and work died there. Both knew of the problems that lurked in their jobs and marriages but they chose to not share them openly. The elevator came to the surface of a winter wonderland of Diagon Alley.

Snow covered all the shops and food marts, yellow light glowing lamps, took the place for the light. Less people were there that were usually there in the daytime, but all the same, a nice amount of people occupied the streets.

Harry would have done well with a nice look around for a while but Ron's words distracted him.

"Isn't that Ginny?"

After _Greenberry Baby Store _had closed Luna treated Ginny to a nice after supper meal. They sat outside, enjoying the crispness of the night air and the sound of peoples dribbling conversations. Luna watched with raised eyebrows as Ginny almost inhaled the soup that was set in front of her moments before.

"Hungry much?" she said staring.

Ginny shrugged and looked off at the people crowding the streets. Luna began looking off in the crowd as well, Ginny returned to her soup.

Ginny had bought so much from that cute little store, both for boys and girls. She had bought so much that Ginny knew Harry wouldn't approve. But for the first time Ginny didn't care what Harry thought. All he would do is shrug at the baby cloths and say she needed to use her money for more useful things, to her this was useful. This child they had silently agreed to having was possibly the only thing that could save their marriage, and after tomorrows appointment, she knew it would prove to be something worth it.

Luna's head rose a little higher over the crowd. A crease formed between her eyebrows. "Is that Harry?"

And before Ginny time to react or even stop Luna, she was waving wildly at two male figures in the distance, one with flaming red hair. Harry stared over, and spotted Ginny. His face grew stern and he and Ron began their way through the crowd toward them.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't feel so good," Ginny mumbled as she sank lower into her seat, face tinged with green.

Luna turned to look at her, her hand finally dropping as Harry and Ron spotted them. "It's probably because you inhaled that soup so fast."

"I don't think it has anything to do with that." Ginny burped as she eyed Harry's stern expression. Harry hated seeing Ginny in public. People seemed to expect the famous Harry Potter to have a Gone with The Wind romance. Ginny and Harry were very careful to never be in public together so they didn't have to put on a show. But there were those rare times when they were caught. But one thing Ginny knew Harry hated more than the pretending was not having to pretend at all. It was one thing for them to silently admit to themselves that their marriage was failing, but it was totally another for it to be out in the open where other people could see, where no amount of monkey tricks could fool the eyes of friends, as they eyed suspiciously their sweeping kisses that were conveniently too short. Harry always said he was at work when Ginny knew damn well he wasn't and it was the same vice versa. When they were alone they could silently lie to each other all they wanted, while pretending they were dutifully devoted. But somehow when they were caught in their silently agreed upon, silently accepted careful half truths it was like all bets were off. Ginny knew what was coming.

Luna frowned, Harry and Ron were almost upon them. "Find some grit, girl, don't let him push you around. What would he expect you to do, be at home cooking his dinner barefoot and pregnant?"

Luna's last word made her already funny feeling stomach twist uncomfortably. But she was right, she had the right to go out and have fun with friends as much as he did, even if she had told Harry that she would be at home. She had the right just as much as anyone even if she was the wife of the famous Harry Potter. Ginny swallowed hard and sat up a little straighter as Harry and Ron came upon them.

"You know, we could just tell them we will see them around, go get some drinks or something," Ron lightly suggested shrugging.

Harry gave him a side glance, he knew he was only saying that because of the expression on Harry's face.

"I want to see what she's up to out here, she said she was going to be at home."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "She told you she was going to be home and she's out here?"

"Yeah."

"Well go talk to her then, tell her whats what," Ron encouraged, his eye brows nit together. "Tell her she needs to do what she said she was gong to do, sometimes women need that."

Ron's advice was probably very biased based on his current situation with Hermione, probably having to do that exactly with Hermione only a few days ago, and he seemed a bit more up in arms than Harry was based on Ginny's white lie. And Ron's original statement was probably right, he should just forget he saw Ginny and they should just go get some drinks and he would pretend nothing had happened and him and Ginny could go back to ignoring each other. But something in him wanted to go an see what was up, wanted to go over and and start something. An unplaced resentment took over him, and as misguided and wrong as it was he took Ron's advice.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry decided, his face more determined than ever.

"Hey ya Harry, Ron," Luna said cheerfully.

Harry nodded curtly his eyes on Ginny. Ginny was still feeling increasingly unwell but she was determined to stand her ground with Harry. She didn't want to to be put in her place like a little child in front of her brother and best friend.

"Hi Luna," Ron smiled warmly, he hands deep on his cloak. He looked at Ginny a little less warmly but Ginny couldn't understand why.

There was silence then. Ron was looking side ways at Harry, and Luna was staring at Ginny. They both seemed to be waiting for them to greet each other, or to continue the conversation, or waiting for an explosion, whichever.

After a few moments, Ron rocked back on his heels, whistling. "So, what were you guys up to-."

"I thought you were going to be at home." Harry barked out suddenly.

Ginny didn't like it. It sounded like a command, like she had to be at home.

"I thought you were at work." She hissed back.

"I got off early," Harry fired back.

"Yeah well Luna came over and we decided to go out!" Ginny answered annoyed.

Luna and Ron seemed to be surprised to with the intensity of the conversation, they stared back and forth between each other and Harry and Ginny for some sign of what to do.  
"Mate we should go and get those drinks like we said earlier-" Ron said placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, but Harry shook it off, ignoring him.

"So you decided to go out and spend all our money on-"  
Harry unceremoniously rummaged through the shopping bags at Ginny's feet and picked up a random piece of babies clothes. When he saw what it was he dropped it quickly like it was something poisonous, his face grave.

Ginny's stomach twisted uncomfortably, her hands became clammy, thick saliva coated her mouth, but she ignored the sensation. This action more than any of the others bothered her the most. Ginny was trying to save their marriage by turning it into a family and Harry didn't seem to care. But more than not care he seemed disgusted by it. Had he ever cared about her? Why didn't he seem to care about anything, except shagging other women and going out with his friends and work. Why was he so heartless, that was nothing like the Harry that she had known who was constantly risking his life for those he loved. More than just caring, true, true loving. It made Ginny explode internally, she could feel her face reddening. She wanted to open her mouth and scream at the top of her lungs how cold the famous Harry Potter was, how arrogant he was. How much he hated his wife and for a moment Ginny was sure she was going to do it. And she opened her mouth to say all this, to respond with fury, respond to embarrass him but at that exact moment her stomach clenched and she felt the bile rising in her throat. She only had enough time to lean over her chair and vomit marvelously all over the unsuspecting baby clothes.


End file.
